Trigger
by bassline
Summary: James Kirk has it all – his own ship, his best friends on board with him, and an endless supply of leggy cadets for his enjoyment. The feisty new Weapons Officer, Marisa Ward, however, turns out to be more than Kirk bargained for. Kirk/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Trigger**.

Beep. Beep. The automatic door slid aside with a hiss, the floor transitioning seamlessly from one white tiled corridor to the next. Marisa's footsteps echoed loudly as she walked through the building, heading back to her dorm. It was odd to think that in a few days, she might not be here anymore. After three straight years of walking the same hallways, sitting in the same classrooms, and living in the same place, Marisa would be hundreds of miles away, warping through the galaxy on whatever spaceship she was assigned to. That is, if she passed her exams.

They had taken them yesterday morning, and she and the rest of the cadets had spent the better part of the day writing answer after answer. Then there had been the physical examination, some more tests, and a few simulations – including, of course, the famed Kobayashi Maru, which Marisa had failed fantastically. Over all, however, she thought that she had done pretty well. Well enough, hopefully, to get on one of the better ships. She hadn't worked this hard to be somebody else's backup.

"_Marisa_!" The shriek bounced against the plain white walls, broken only by the utilitarian gray doors that lead to each of the rooms. The blonde in question smiled to herself, shaking her head slightly as the voice's owner came bounding around the corner.

"Hey, Kim," Marisa greeted the girl with a roll of her eyes. "Where's the fire?" Kim was shorter than Marisa, with a head full of shiny brown curls. On a good day, she had enough energy to power the entire freaking space station. Right now, her body was practically quivering with excitement. Marisa braced herself for another diatribe about how the boy who sat next to her in her medical class asked to borrow a pen. She loved her roommate and all, but sometime Kim got just a little too excited.

The brunette stopped in front of Marisa, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her brown eyes were shining, and the corners of her lips turned up in a smile as she saw the bored expression on her friend's face. "No fire," she replied with a cheeky grin. "In fact, it's probably not important at all. You probably have something better to do than stand around listening to me tell you that test scores are up." She finished with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Kim!" Marisa shrieked, whacking her friend in the arm. "Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?" Kim just smiled, giggling at her friend's overreaction. Marisa, on the other hand, was freaking out. Holy hell, the scores were up already? Her heart started beating twice as fast. "Well, what are we waiting for?" She grabbed Kim's arm and set off in the direction the brunette had come from, practically running in her excitement. After all, it wasn't every day that your whole entire future was decided.

Five minutes and innumerable near-collisions later, the pair came to a stop in front of a bank of screens. Well, there would be a bank of screens if there weren't a knot of students crowding around them, blocking Kim and Marisa's view. "Ugh, is the whole damn school here?" Marisa asked Kim, wrinkling her nose as she tried to push her way through the crowd.

"Relax, Missy," Kim replied with a laugh. "Like you need to worry about not passing."

"But what if I don't?" Marisa replied, worry creeping into her voice. "What if I answered one of the questions wrong? Or they figure that I don't have the courage? Or that one mistake I _know_ I made on the exam on foreign relations hurts my scores?" She took a breath, about to continue, but stopped when she saw Kim's glare.

"Marisa. Shut up." Marisa sighed, grumbling about unsupportive friends in her time of need, but she shut up. Slowly, the two girls inched their way forward. The crowd pressed in around them, chattering nervously amongst themselves as they waited to receive the verdict. As they got closer to the screens, Marisa could hear the excited cheers of those who had obviously passed – as well as a few wails of disappointment. She bit her lip.

Suddenly, there was an opening, and Marisa wasted no time in grabbing Kim's arm and pushing forward to the sliver of white. With a well-placed elbow or two, the pair burst through into space. Marisa ignored the complaints of the people they had just shoved past, too transfixed with bank of screens right in front of her, each one with a anxious cadet standing in front of it.

When one of them let out his breath and replaced his worried look with one of joy, Marisa stepped forward, taking his place in front of the computer as he went off to celebrate with his friends. "Ward, Marisa." She spoke clearly and loudly, waiting for the computer to pick up the voice recognition. Not even a second later, the cool, metallic voice issued from speakers above her head. "Voice recognition complete. Welcome Cadet Ward." The screen in front of her, which had been blank aside for the Star Fleet logo, was suddenly filled with information. Shaking slightly, Marisa reached forward, pressing the icon labeled 'Test Scores'.

Trying not to think of the disaster that would come if she failed, Marisa held her breath as the page loaded. Slowly, the numbers began to fill the screen, and Marisa's sharp green eyes scanned the results quicker than she had ever read anything in her life. History of Star Fleet – Passed. Foreign Diplomatic Relations – Passed. Weapon Research & Development – Passed. Piloting 101 – Passed. Spaceship Engineering – Passed. Advanced Weaponry – Passed. Her eyes quickly scanned the comments from her simulations, the words barely registering by the time she reached the bottom.

There it was, in big, bolded black letters – PASSED.

"Oh my god." She breathed out, a smile slowly spreading across her face. She had done it. She had passed all of her exams. All the studying, the all-nighters, the tears – it was all worth it. Marisa was a Star Fleet Academy graduate. With a grin on her face wide enough to rival the galaxy itself, Marisa turned around to see Kim. "I passed!" Kim just laughed, shaking her head from her spot in line.

"I told you not to worry, Missy!" Marisa laughed too, giddy with relief. God, this is what Kim must feel like all the time. How tiring. Glancing back at the screen one last time, Marisa reached to close out and let the next cadet check their scores when her eyes caught a line of text that she had missed the first time. Right underneath the final verdict was her assignment. _Ward, Marisa: Weapons Officer on the USS Enterprise._

Her eyes widened. The Enterprise? That was one of the newest, fastest, and best ships that the Federation had! Oh my god, she was going to be working on it. _And_ she was going to be doing weapons. Serves Professor Frederickson right. For a moment, a smug look of satisfaction crossed her face. It was replaced by a wince as Kim, who had finally gotten the chance to look at her own scores at the terminal next to Marisa, let out an ear-splitting shriek.

"Oh my god, Marisa, I did it! I passed!" Marisa just rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards at her friend's reaction. She was pretty sure that the whole school now knew that Kim had passed. Chuckling good-naturedly, she exited out of the program, letting the next cadet find out their scores as she walked over to the next terminal.

"Congratulations, Kimmie!" Marisa told her with a smile, wrapping her arms around the girl and hugging her tightly. "I knew you could do it."

"Oh my god, I can't believe we passed!" Kim squealed again, practically jumping up and down right there in the middle of the atrium. Marisa laughed, keeping one arm slung over her friend's shoulder as they headed out. The rest of the cadets were still buzzing with nerves, waiting to see if they passed or not. A few moments ago, Marisa was one of them. Now, they seemed like a world away. After all, she was now a member of the USS Enterprise.

"So," she started, still wearing a silly little smile as she and Kim started heading back to their dorm. "You get your assignment?"

"USS Farragut! I'll just be one of the medical assistants, but it'll be exciting." Kim smiled, bouncing along. "After all, I'll get to work hands-on. Maybe they'll be an outbreak of a rare disease!" Her eyes lit up, and Marisa couldn't help but laugh.

"Geez, Kimmie, that's nice. I'm sure your fellow crew members will thank you for that one," she teased.

"Oh, shut up. You know what I mean." Kim shot her a scowl, shoving her on the shoulder as she ducked out from under Marisa's arm. "What about you, Missy?" Kim asked with a grin as she fell into step beside her friend. She cocked her head to the side, her brown eyes still sparkling with her never-ending supply of excitement. "What ship are you going to be shooting from?"

Marisa ducked her head, her ponytail swinging to the side as she gave her friend a small little smile. "The Enterprise," she replied, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. Even as she said it, however, a note of happiness crept into her voice, and she couldn't hide the fact that a smile was now stretching across her face.

"Oh, Marisa!" Kim cried, throwing her arms around the girl. "I can't believe you!" She let go, holding Marisa out at arms length as a critical look crossed her face. "How the hell did you keep that from me for so long?"

"Kim, you idiot, it's been two minutes." Marisa rolled her eyes, laughing.

"Two minutes in like a freaking eternity! How are you not bouncing off the walls? That's your _dream_!" Kim repeated, as if Marisa had somehow forgotten years of hoping in the excitement of the past few minutes.

"Not all of us express our excitement as…exuberantly as you do, Kimmie," Marisa replied wryly, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. "And yes, I know it's my dream. And it's finally come true." She glanced down the hallway in front of her, her eyes glazing over for a moment. "How crazy is that?" She whispered, smiling to herself. Kim wrapped her arm around Marisa's waist, the blonde's arm once again slung over the smaller girl's shoulder as they walked side by side.

"Pretty damn crazy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Trigger** – Chapter 2

"All crew to the flight deck." The voice of the announcement was barely heard over the din of the room, each voice rising up to the cavernous ceiling and echoing off the metal hulls of the shuttles. Kim was already bouncing around, alternately chatting with anyone around her, tugging on Marisa's arm, and squealing to herself whenever she spotted something interesting.

"Kimmie, if you keep it up you're going to give yourself a heart attack before you set foot on a ship," Marisa informed her friend, rolling her eyes. Kim ignored her; she had had three years of getting used to the girl's comments, after all. The pair shuffled slowly forward, just two more red-clad cadets in the sea of the recent graduates. Everyone was looking for their shuttle, waiting to be transported to the ship that would be their home for the next however many years.

"Oh God." Kim stopped in her tracks, and Marisa, looking in the completely other direction, ran into her.

"Ow. Kim, what the hell?" The blonde questioned, taking a step back. Kim's gaze was glued to something in front of her, however, and she completely ignored Marisa's question. Following her friend's line of sight, Marisa's green eyes landed on the shiny silver hull of the shuttle destined to go to the USS Farragut. Unconsciously, she took a step closer to her friend. Ignoring all of the cadets still streaming around them.

"That's it," Kim whispered, for once her body completely still. "This is really happening." Marisa smiled softly at her friend, grabbing her hand and tugging her through the crowd towards the shuttle.

"C'mon, Kim." She urged the girl, glancing over her shoulder as they maneuvered through the knot of people. "You don't want to miss it, yeah?" A few moments later, they arrived in front of the shuttle. It was less crowded off to the side, but there were still a good number of cadets milling around, waiting to board the shuttle to take them up to their ship. Marisa was just about to tell Kim that she should probably find the shuttle captain and check in when the girl cut her off.

"Marisa." She turned around to find that Kim was once again standing there, a small smile on her face. The brunette's eyes, however, normally so lively and sparkling, were almost…sad? Marisa frowned, taking a step closer.

"Kimmie, what is it? What's wrong?" This was unlike her friend. The Kim she knew would be bouncing off the walls, already introducing herself to every other person on her shuttle and waiting in line just to be first to set foot on it.

"This is it, isn't it?" Kim asked, her smile faltering a little bit. "I mean, I'm going to the Farragut and you're going to the Enterprise and who knows when we'll see each other again?" Oh. The look of concern slid off of Marisa's face, quickly replaced with the same expression that Kim wore – a small, slightly sad smile. Kim was right. This really was it. Who knew what could happen while they were up in there in space? And sure, sometimes their ships might fight together. And sure, they could send messages to each other. But after living with each other and being practically inseparable for three straight years, not being together at all seemed foreign.

"Oh, Kim," Marisa threw her arms around her friend, squeezing her tight. "Shut up before you make me cry." Kim gave a muffled little laugh somewhere from under Marisa's arms.

"Okay. Missy. I can't breathe." She mumbled. Marisa released her with a little laugh. After all, she wouldn't want Kim to suffocate before she even set foot on the damn shuttle. Suddenly, one of the officers stepped forward, calling for all new cadets stationed on the USS Farragut to come forward and check in.

"You better go," Marisa told her friend quietly, giving her a wistful smile. Kim nodded, pressing her lips together like she was holding something in.

"Message me when you get on the Enterprise?" She asked, sounding a bit choked up.

"Of course," Marisa replied, giving her friend one last hug. "And don't worry," she whispered. "We'll be seeing each other at the awards ceremony where you're honored for saving your entire ship from the outbreak of some deadly alien disease, remember?" Kim giggled, and Marisa couldn't help but smile as well as she took a step back. "Good luck, Kimmie," she told the girl as she walked towards the shuttle.

"Love you, Missy," she replied with a smile, before turning and striding over the officer to check in. Marisa stood there, watching as Kim talked to the officer. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could see Kim smile, her shiny curls bouncing as she chatted with the man. He cracked a smile as well, and Kim just laughed. Figures that Kim would already have the officer wrapped around her finger. They hadn't even gotten on the shuttle yet!

As she reached the top step, Kim turned around one last time, catching Marisa's eyes. With a small smile, she raised her hand and waved. Marisa returned the gesture, watching until her best friend disappeared into the shuttle. She sighed heavily, dropping her hand back down to her side. It was weird to think that she was going to have to make new friends, get to know new people. It made the whole situation even more uncomfortable.

Figuring she'd deal with that when she actually got _on_ the damn ship, Marisa turned away from the shuttle. She still had to find her own, after all. A few minutes later, her green eyes caught sight of the word 'Enterprise', and she wove her way through the crowd towards the shuttle in question. The officer was already checking people in, tapping away on the screen she held in front of her. Marisa took her place at the end of the line, behind the six or so other cadets that would be stationed on the ship.

"Ward, Marisa." She told the officer when she reached the front.

"Cadet Marisa Ward, Weapons Officer on the USS Enterprise," the woman rattled off, giving her a sharp nod. "You're good to go, Cadet Ward." Marisa smiled, thanking her as she scurried up the steps. Inside the shuttle, the others had already taken their seats. Marisa dropped down in one of the empty ones, busying herself with buckling up.

Before she knew it, the captain's voice was declaring them ready to go, and Marisa felt the shuttle lurch forward slightly. Glancing out of the window, she watched as they rose higher, the people below them melting into a blob of red and the entire flight deck growing smaller and smaller. And then, without any fanfare at all, they were outside. Marisa craned her head to look up at the vast expanse of blue above her. Soon, she would _be_ up there, zipping through the stars. She couldn't help but grin.

XXXX

"Welcome aboard the USS Enterprise." The man spoke elegantly, his words clipped with an almost eerie articulation. Then again, considering he was Vulcan, Marisa supposed she shouldn't be surprised. She stood there with the six other cadets, shifting from one boot to the other. They had just arrived, and Marisa was in absolute awe of the ship she was standing in.

"I am Commander Spock. The Captain will be here shortly to greet you all in person, but for now I shall delineate some general requirements and basic information about the ship." Marisa listened intently as the Commander spoke, running through the ship, its floor plan, the schedule, and an overview of what was expected of them. Nothing new, really – Marisa had looked the ship up on the Academy's database before she left. So as Commander Spock started talking about where the sickbay was located, Marisa found herself focusing more on the man's eyebrows than on his words.

"Spock, lighten up man!" Marisa pulled her gaze away from the unnatural angle of the Commander's eyebrows to see who had spoken. The man clapped the commander on the back, grinning at Marisa and the rest of the cadets. "After all," he continued, "we wouldn't want to bore our new recruits within in the first five minutes." His grin widened, and Marisa felt her breath catch in her throat. She was pretty sure the other three female cadets were experiencing the same thing she was – shortness of breath, irregular heartbeat, and lightheadedness. That man was _fine_.

"Hello, everybody! I'm James Tiberius Kirk - Captain of the USS Enterprise." He gave them all another cocky grin, folding his hands behind his back. Holy hell! _That_ was the captain? Marisa had heard bits and pieces about him – he had only been a year ahead of her in the Academy, after all. Of course, everyone knew the story of how he _became_ captain. It was practically a legend. And she had heard that he was attractive. But attractive didn't even come _close_ to this. He was tall and muscular, with chiseled features and blue eyes so bright they were almost blinding.

The captain started moving down the line of cadets, glancing down at his PADD. "Cadet Shaw, Communications," he read off, glancing up at the sandy-haired man standing in front of him. "Good to have you aboard, Shaw." He nodded, smiling at the man before moving on to the next recruit. Marisa stared straight ahead, still not quite believing that Kirk was their _captain_. She had never spoken to the man personally, but at one point she believe he had slept with her friend Rachel. Talk about a profound personality adjustment – he had gone from being a cocky, womanizing cadet to the responsible and mature captain of his very own starship.

"Cadet Babson, Medical Assistant," he read off, reaching the pretty redhead standing next to Marisa. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Kirk's grin widened. "Pleasure, Cadet. You need _anything_, you just let me know, okay?" And then he winked at her. Eugh. Marisa wrinkled her nose. Clearly, he hadn't changed _that_ much. How in the hell did they let _him_ become captain? Before she knew it, however, he was standing in front of her.

"Cadet Ward," he grinned. "Weapons Officer." He raised his eyebrows, looking up at her. Marisa just pressed her lips together, hoping that was all he was going to say. "You must be a feisty one, then. How about dinner later?" He gave her a devilish smile, and despite herself Marisa felt her heart speed up. Was this guy for real? Her _captain_, the man who was supposed to be giving orders and running the ship, had just asked her out? Unbelievable. She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest.

"How about a sexual harassment lawsuit?" She countered, scoffing. If he was going to act just like any other horny guy that hit on her at a bar, then Marisa was damn well going to treat him like one. She hadn't made it all the way to the Enterprise just to be objectified because of her good genes. Her gaze hardened, and the grin slid off of Kirk's face.

"I think, Captain," Commander Spock stated in the same clipped tone he had used earlier. "That that would be a resounding no."


	3. Chapter 3

_Authors Note: Thanks for all of the feedback so far, guys! I'm glad you like the story. Enjoy Chapter 3._

**Trigger – Chapter 3**

Who the hell did James Tiberius Kirk think he was? Marisa shoved another thing in the shoebox that was her closet, scowling to herself. Sure, she had heard about his antics at school. He was hot, and would sleep with anything wearing a skirt. But she had heard the story of Nero and the Romulans, and how he saved Captain Pike and Earth and all that. Star Fleet let him captain the Enterprise, for God's sake! That should say _something_. But apparently the man hadn't matured at all since he was eighteen. He still wore a cocky grin, that insufferable smirk that told Marisa he thought that he owned the damn place. He was attractive, yes, but my God, did he know. And nothing was more unattractive than that. She slammed a drawer shut, running a hand through her hair.

The worse part had been that no one had even cared! He had _asked her out_ right then and there, without even knowing her at all and right after hitting on the cadet next to him! And even Commander Spock, who seemed like the sort that would follow the rules, didn't even berate him for it. Clearly, being captain gave Kirk the right to do whatever the hell he wanted. Marisa was just going to have to steer clear of him.

Flopping down on the bed, she glanced around the tiny room that had been assigned to her. It was simple enough – a bed, a bedside table, a tiny little closet, and a bathroom. It was a little cramped, but it served its purpose. Sighing softly, Marisa let her eyes flicker closed, and she was just about to take a little nap when she remembered her promise to Kim. Groaning, she sat up, fishing her PADD out of the bag she had tossed at the foot of her bed. She settled back against the plain white wall, so much like the ones in her dorm room back at the Academy, and opened up the messaging window.

_Hey Kimmie!_

_I miss you already. Hopefully your shuttle ride went smoothly and you're now somewhere on the USS Farragut. The sickbay, probably. Knowing you, you already know all of the doctors and nurses, the exact layout of the entire damn place, and have been chatting with one of the engineers who just needed a damn bandage for the past fifteen minutes._

_Nothing much to report here. I'm sitting in my room on the Enterprise, which, if you haven't already seen yours, you'll soon find out is about a quarter of the size of our room back at the Academy. But it fits everything, and I don't plan to spend a lot of time in here anyway, so it'll be okay. Later this afternoon I'll meet with the Head Engineer and the guy who runs the weapons on the bridge to find out exactly what I'll be doing. It's exciting – the ship is so incredible, Kim! I can't believe I'm actually in space._

_Speaking of introduction, do you remember James Kirk? I think you had an advanced medical course with him once, and Rachel had a thing with him last spring for about a week. Anyway, I don't know how I forgot considering the story was told and retold for practically the entire first term, but he's captain of the Enterprise. And of course, from the story, you'd think that he's so mature now, so responsible and always looking out for his crew. Ha! What a joke. He's the exact same he was in school, if not worse. I hadn't even spoken to the man, and when he came down to greet us he asked me if I wanted to get dinner. What nerve!_

_Of course, I told him exactly what I thought of that idea, which I don't think he approached. I can't imagine he gets turned down much. After all, despite being an absolute asshole, he's just as attractive as everyone always said. So I fully plan on avoided him before I'm harassed anymore, and spending the rest of my time working on weapons in the Engineering Department or learning how to actually use them on the bridge._

_Hopefully the crew of the Farragut is a bit more enjoyable. I'm sure you've made plenty of new friends, and have broken half of the boys' hearts already. Anyway, I can't wait until I hear all about what you've been up to – just no gruesome medical details please. There's a reason why I'm a weapons officer and not a nurse._

_Love, Marisa._

A click later and the message was off, zipping through outer space. Hopefully Kim would get it and respond by the time Marisa went to bed; she really wanted to hear how her best friend was doing. Glancing over at the clock, Marisa realized that she should probably head up to the mess hall if she wanted some lunch. Throwing her long blonde hair back up into a messy ponytail and tugging back on the standard-issue Star Fleet boots, Marisa opened her door with a pneumatic hiss. It shut behind her automatically as she stepped out into the hall, and would only open with her fingerprint reading.

Without another thought, she began to wind her way through the spartan white halls, punctuated here and there with the flash of silver or a door to another room. Thankful that she had paid attention when Commander Spock had been talking about the floor plan, Marisa only got lost one time before reaching the mess hall. She knew she had arrived a full minute before she actually saw the doors simply by the sound of clanking silverware and laughter that floated down the hall in front of her. As she finally reached the entrance, the metal doors slid open automatically, letting her see for herself what lay inside.

Biting her lip, Marisa made her way to the buffet. People of all rank were clustered around the tables, eating off of their trays and chatting with their friends. For a while, she had managed to forget that she was new and didn't know anyone on the ship yet. Now, as she moved slowly down the line with her own tray in hand, it came back to her in full force.

With a full meal in front of her, Marisa turned around, her sharp green eyes sweeping the room. There were a few empty tables scattered throughout the crowd, and she figured it would be easier to sit at one of them than invading someone else's table. After all, she couldn't spot any of the other new cadets. In fact, the only people she saw that she knew were Commander Spock and Captain Kirk, both sitting together at a table in the back. And like _hell_ she was going to subject herself to that.

With her head held high, Marisa made her way to the nearest empty table, setting her tray down and sliding into a seat. She had barely begun picking at her food when another tray was set down across from her, the bang of the plastic against plastic causing her to look up. In front of her was a gorgeous dark-skinned officer, pulling off the short red Star Fleet dress in a way that Marisa never could. The woman smiled, sitting down across from her.

"Do you mind if I join you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, of course not. Go ahead," Marisa replied, giving the woman a small smile in return.

"I'm Lieutenant Uhura," the woman continued. "But you can call me Nyota. Cadet Ward, right?" She asked, bringing her fork down to spear some of the salad that was on her plate. Marisa nodded, a look of confusion flitting across her face. How had the woman known who she was? Almost as if reading the girls' mind, Nyota continued.

"Myself and a few of the other officers came down with Captain Kirk to greet you all. Though I must say, I think he did a well enough job all by himself." She rolled her eyes. That meant that she had been there to witness the whole Kirk Debacle. Marisa winced slightly. Nyota didn't seem to notice, however.

"Thank _God_ you said something. I can't _believe_ that he did that. On your first day too! What kind of image of the Enterprise is that supposed to represent? Kirk just doesn't think half of the time." She shook her head, pausing to take a bite of her salad. So apparently, Marisa wasn't the only one who thought that the captain had acted like an asshole. That was good to know, at least.

"Is he like that all the time?" She asked, slightly afraid of what the answer would be.

"Unfortunately, yes," Nyota replied with a sympathetic smile. "He's James Kirk, after all. Being made captain has done nothing for him but increase his ego. But don't worry," she assured the younger girl. "I doubt he'll be bothering you anytime soon." She chuckled slightly as she took a sip of her drink. "He's not exactly used to rejection." Marisa laughed as well, setting down her fork for a moment.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that. I remember hearing stories about him at the Academy, but I figured that since he was running his own damn ship he would have matured a _little_. Guess I was wrong." She rolled her eyes. After all, it wasn't as if she had never dealt with his kind before. Being in Star Fleet usually gave all men a big head, which usually meant that they thought any random girl they hit on in a bar or at a party would go home with them. Marisa had plenty of opportunities to hone the skill of rejection of the years. "You can call me Marisa, by the way," she added with a smile. Nyota seemed nice – and she seemed to share Marisa's feeling on Kirk as well. Judging by her fellow female cadets' responses earlier, it was a rare one around these parts.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Marisa. Oh!" She spotted someone over Marisa's shoulder, a grin spreading across her face. "Chekhov! Come over here. There's someone I want you to meet." She smiled reassuringly at Marisa, who gave her a quick smile in return. As painful as awkward introductions were – Kim had always been the one to make friends in a second, not Marisa – she would at least now know more than one person onboard.

"Chekhov, this is Marisa Ward. She's the new Assistant Weapons Officer." Nyota smiled. The man that she called Chekhov was young – maybe Marisa's age, if not younger. He was clearly Russian, and had curly hair and friendly eyes. Marisa brushed some hair out of her face, setting down her fork as she smiled at him.

"Ensign Chekhov is the navigator and tactical officer on board, so you'll be working with him quite a bit," Nyota told her. Tactical officer – that meant that Chekhov would be working with the strategies behind the weapons. She assumed that the engineer she had yet to meet would help her with the mechanics behind the actual weapons themselves. At the thought, Marisa's green eyes sparkled. As odd as it was, she loved working with weapons, and she was glad that she got to deal with both sides of the defense with her position.

"It weel be a pleasure to work with you, Mareesa," he told her with a smile and a thick Russian accent.

"I'm looking forward to it!" She told him with a laugh. As Nyota and Chekhov fell into conversation about something that happened the other day, Marisa just resumed eating, letting it all sink it. She was finally a part of the crew of the USS Enterprise. She had met two new friends, and hopefully a message from Kim would be waiting for her when she went back to her room. So far, so good.

Grinning to herself, she looked around, her bright green eyes roving around the mess hall. They slid over the laughing faces of her fellow crew members, who she would hopefully get to know over the next few days. Without even meaning to, her gaze passed over the table where Spock, Kirk, and a few of the other senior officers were eating. She would have just kept on going, too, if one obnoxious captain hadn't chosen that exact moment to look up. And without even meaning to, Marisa found herself staring into the hypnotizing blue gaze of Captain James T. Kirk.

_AN: So not as much Marisa/Kirk in this chapter. I'm still setting things up. But next chapter will have more – I promise! Please leave a review :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Trigger – Chapter 4**

"Cadet Ward!" Marisa was on her way to the Engineering Bay when she heard her name called. A scowl flitted across her face as she kept walking, her footsteps echoing loudly in the narrow hallway. She had nothing to say to him, after all. Unconsciously, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She hadn't spoken to the captain since the introductions yesterday morning, and she was planning to keep it that way. Unfortunately, it seemed like the man had a different idea.

"Ward!" He called again, closer this time. Marisa kept her head up, her back straight as she walked, purposefully ignoring him. He was probably just going to ask her out to dinner again, or make some lewd comment about just how damn short the Star Fleet uniform dresses were. She internally cursed whoever the hell had designed them – like Kirk needed any more encouragement.

"Ward," he repeated, and Marisa felt her spine stiffen. He was right behind her. Suddenly, a large, calloused hand wrapped itself around her wrist, effectively stopping her from ignoring him any longer. Still, Marisa would be damned if she couldn't try. She pressed her lips together, staring stonily down the hall in front of her, despite the fact that she could see the captain's handsome face out of the corner of her eye.

"You can't ignore me forever, Ward," he told her with a cheeky grin, tugging at her wrist until she faced him. Jerking her chin up, Marisa glared at him, her green eyes meeting his startling blue ones. For a moment, her breath hitched in her throat. His eyes were too damn bright, that was it. One of these days she was going to go blind. He seemed to notice that she had been momentarily derailed, causing the smirk on his face to widen. It was just the thing to cause Marisa's anger to flare up again. How dare he!

"I can certainly try," she retorted heatedly. God, he was infuriating. He pressed his fingers more tightly into the skin of her wrist, reminded Marisa he still had a firm hold on her. Her eyes sparked again as she tried to yank her wrist away. Kirk held on tight, though, preventing her from running. She tugged at it again futilely. Huffing, Marisa balled her hands into fists, leaning back to look in him the eye again. She was planning to lay into him for manhandling his crewmembers, but whatever nasty insult was hovering on the tip of her tongue was quickly forgotten. His face was a hell of a lot closer than it had been a moment ago, and Marisa was taken aback.

"Considering I'm the captain," Kirk replied, his face hovering dangerously close to hers. "I highly doubt that." The corners of his mouth curved upwards slowly, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth as Marisa scowled. It seemed like the angrier Marisa got, the more Kirk enjoyed it. What kind of sadistic ship had she landed herself on? Anger surged up inside her again – anger at him for being such a pig, for grabbing her, for hitting on her, for not being sorry about it, for having eyes that were so damn _bright_. Marisa snapped.

"Listen, Kirk." She used her free hand to poke him in the chest. "I'm not some airhead cadet you can take advantage of. I'm on this ship because I'm damn good at what I do, and I'm not going to let some sexist, chauvinistic _pig_ get in the way of that." Her green eyes flashed angrily as she glared at him. "So I would appreciate if you _left me the hell alone_." Her last words were almost a hiss, her green eyes narrowed into slits. Still glaring, she ripped her wrist out of his grasp, turning on her heels and marching down the rest of the corridor. If she had looked back, she would have seen Kirk standing in the exact same spot she left him, staring after her.

XXXXXX

"How do you put up with him, Scotty?" Marisa moaned, grabbing the wrench from the floor next to her. She had made it to Engineering without further incident, thank goodness. To her surprise, she had immediately hit if off with Montgomery Scott, the Head Engineer, who was currently teaching her how to repair the weapons system on the Enterprise. Apparently, not everyone on this ship was an asshole like the captain.

"Eh, you get used to 'im," Scotty replied, shrugging as he took another bite of his sandwich. "I mean, aside from the fact that he still hits on every woman he sees, he's gotten much better. He even follows rules now, occasionally." Scotty laughed, leaning back in his chair, he feet propped up on the messy desk he sat behind as he watched Marisa work.

"Well," she frowned, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand as she sat back on her knees. "I suppose that since he's never hit on you, it hasn't really been a problem." She glanced over her shoulder, shooting Scotty a little grin.

"Yeah, I suppose," he agreed through a mouthful of turkey and cheese. "Though from what I hear, you sure put him in his place." He grinned, chuckling to himself as he watched a scowl flit over his newest cadet's face. Marisa set the wrench down, sifting through the pile of tools until she found the right sized screwdriver.

"Yeah, but he seems like a pretty persistent guy," Marisa pointed out, leaning forward once more. Her green eyes narrowed in concentration as she located the screw she needed. A few deft twists of her wrist later and the little metal piece popped out, landing with a clink on the floor. Marisa quickly put a hand down to stop it from rolling away, shoving it her pocket so it wouldn't get lost.

"Eh," Scotty shrugged, setting his half-eaten sandwich down on the manual he had spread out on the table in front of him. "He's not really a bad guy deep down, you know. Yeah, he's a bit arrogant, and he doesn't really know how to treat a lady." Marisa snorted as she heard Scotty's words. That was a bit of an understatement. "But really, he was made captain for a reason, ye know." Marisa looked up, glancing over her shoulder to see that the engineer was staring right at her.

"What do you mean, Scotty?" She asked, frowning slightly. She wasn't quite sure if she was asking to clarify what he said, or the look he was giving her.

"Just don't be too hard on him, that's all," he told her briskly, standing up from his desk and walking over to where she was working. He placed his hands on his knees, leaning over to survey the machine. "How's it coming?" He asked, his fingers fiddling with a few of the controls.

Marisa sat back on her heels again, explaining to him what she had done and why she had done it. Even as she spoke, however, her mind was replaying the conversation. What the hell did Scotty mean by that? She knew that the man was friends with Kirk, but she didn't get how he could stick up for the captain after hearing what he'd said. He was captain for a _reason_? Marisa had yet to see why. So far, all she could see was a sexist, womanizing, arrogant, obnoxious man who did what he wanted when he wanted with absolutely no regard for anyone or anything else. It seemed that Kirk had everyone else under his spell, however. Just thinking about him brought a scowl to her face.

"Alright then, Cadet," Scotty smiled at her, breaking her from her reverie. "It's almost time for dinner, so I'd say you're done for the day. Nice work," he told her, a broad smile stretching across his face. Marisa picked herself up from the floor, setting the screwdriver back with the other tools before brushing herself off.

"Thanks, Scotty," she told him with a grin. "Both for teaching me and letting me vent." She wrinkled her nose, laughing slightly, and the man joined in.

"Not to worry, my dear." He clapped her on the shoulder. "It was my pleasure." Marisa warmed inside, smiling to herself. She liked working with Scotty. He was kind and funny, and she felt comfortable working among the weapons system. And the man she had met yesterday at dinner, Chekov, seemed nice too. Of course, there was always Nyota, who Marisa already felt comfortable with. Maybe working aboard the Enterprise wasn't going to be as bad as she first thought it was.

"I'll see if you in the mess hall, yeah?" Marisa asked him, raising her eyebrows. The engineer nodded, and Marisa headed back to her room to wash up before dinner. After all, she was covered in dust and grease and who the hell knows what else that was down there. A shower sounded like just the thing she needed.

XXXXXX

When Marisa got back to her cramped little room, however, she didn't immediately head for the shower. Her sharp green eyes had caught the flashing red light on her PADD – she had a message. Immediately, a smile stole over her face. It had to be Kim! Forgetting that she was covered in grease, Marisa flopped down on her narrow bed, grabbing the PADD and opening up the messaging screen. Before her eyes, Kim's peppy, overdramatic words filled with screen.

_Hey Missy!_

_God, it's so good to hear from you. I know it has only been one day, but I miss you so much already. I know you're doing great on the Enterprise, though, so I don't worry about you too much. Not that there's much time to worry anyway – there's always so much to do! Of course I've already been to the medical bay. It's where I work, after all! The doctors and nurses are all really nice, especially Dr. Hernandez, who's just the sweetest old man you've ever met. So far, no strange rare alien diseases, but I'll keep my hopes up._

_Oh. My. God. How could you forget that James Kirk was captain of the Enterprise? Well, truthfully, I sort of forgot as well, but that's only because I was a bit distracted with my own life. But now that you mention it, of course, I remember the story exactly. God, he was so brave. And that's the reason he _is _captain, Missy – he's not a boring, stiff, rule-following droid like most captains are. He's bold and daring! Personally, I probably would have fainted if he asked _me_ to dinner. _Especially_ if he's still as dreamy as he was in school._

_Sorry. This probably isn't helping any, is it? Anyway, it's a shame he was such a jerk to you, even though you think all men are jerks and therefore are probably just overreacting as usual. Good luck avoiding him, considering he's your captain and all. Here's a solution – why don't you just set him up with me instead? I'd gladly take him off your hands! That man is FINE._

_Despite having no one quite as yummy as your Captain Kirk, I already love the Farragut crew. Everyone's so nice and welcoming, and I've already met tons of great new friends. No best friends, of course – you know that will always be you. And have no idea what you're talking about with that whole broken hearts comment! Although there is this one cute communications officer…Anyway, I'll be sure to fill you in with all the gory details about the surgery I'll be helping with later this week, and I'm expecting more reports about one __handsome -_ _sorry, I mean _infuriating_ - James Kirk._

_Love, Kimmie._

Marisa just rolled her eyes. Figures that Kim would completely overlook the fact that the man was a Grade A Asshole and instead concentrate on how dreamy he was. People really needed to get over that. The man was human, after all. And the girl had absolutely no idea what she was talking about – Marisa was _not_ overreacting. Kirk acted like a testosterone-fueled teenage boy and she failed to see how that made him a good captain. In her mind, good captains were levelheaded and calm, commanding the respect of their crew members while still getting along with them – which did _not_ include hitting on them in the hallway.

No matter. It was not like Marisa could do anything about it. Kirk was the captain, and she was stuck with him, whether she liked it or not. Which is why she had decided to simply avoid him as much as possible. That way she could get her job done without feeling the urge to break the damn man's nose. With a press of a button, the screen went blank, and Marisa tucked the PADD back into her bag. Still grumbling about Kim falling under Kirk's spell as well, Marisa made her way to the tiny bathroom. After a nice hot shower, she could head up to dinner and get started with Operation: Avoid Kirk. After all, Kim may mean well, but she had _no_ idea what she was talking about.

_AN: Alright! So I finally figured out where I want the story to go, so hopefully things will start picking up a bi.! Thanks for all of the reviews, guys – you make my day! :)_


	5. Chapter 5

**Trigger – Chapter 5**

"So you have to do is press that button?" Marisa repeated, raising an eyebrow. She almost felt like she should be taking notes, like she was back at the Academy sitting in a classroom. It seemed so long ago, but really, it had only been a week since she had sat for her exams. It was crazy how far away it all seemed now, warping through space on the Enterprise.

"Just press the button," Chekhov replied with a nod. Holy hell, that was the simplest instruction of the day. Everything else had been a blur of diagrams and numbers and complicated codes and firing sequences. Marisa wasn't sure how in the hell she was going to remember it all. Sighing, she flopped back in the chair, letting her arms dangle loosely over the side.

It was the next day, and Marisa was on the bridge with the rest of the flight crew. Chekhov had spent the entire morning going over tactics and weapons information, from the exact weapons the Enterprise had and how they were used to procedures during different situations. Later, they would get into the more tactical things – when and where to fire, how to plan around your enemy's actions, that sort of thing. Right now, Marisa just needed a break.

"How's it coming Chekhov? We have ourselves a Weapons Officer yet?" Marisa winced. He wasn't even talking to her, and she still found him grating. She wasn't sure how she was going to work on the bridge; this was only her first day, and she already was suffering from major Kirk-Overload. All morning long he had been trying to rile Spock up, or chatting casually with Sulu and Chekhov, or teasing Nytoa and the others. He acted more like they were on lunch break than flying through space on one of the powerful ships in the galaxy.

"She is wery good, Captain," Chekhov replied, and Marisa couldn't help but grin. Unfortunately, she hadn't seen that Kirk had dragged his lazy ass up from his special captain's chair and was standing right behind her.

"So you like that, don't you Cadet?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "You think you're good at what you do?" He took another step down until he was standing right next to her. Marisa sat up straighter, glaring at him. What gave him the right to just sneak up on her like that? She was hoping that Kirk would just go away, but he seemed immune to the daggers she was shooting him with her eyes. Clearly, he was still waiting for an answer.

"I'm here for a reason, aren't I?" She replied sharply, turning her head purposefully in the other direction. "I don't think I would be assigned to the ship if Star Fleet didn't think I was capable." Chekhov, who was sitting next to her, shifted in his seat, becoming very interested in the diagram of the ship's shield spread out in front of him. Marisa could see that everyone looked like they were working, but their eyes kept flicking over to her and Kirk. Dammit, he was going to cause a scene right here in front of everyone, wasn't he?

"Well, someone thinks highly of themselves!" Kirk grinned, delighted that he had gotten Marisa to bite back. She was still facing the other direction though, and had no intention of being dragged into something like this. She had to learn to control her temper if she was going to work with the man. Starting now, she wasn't going to let him see how much he riled her up. She obviously couldn't ignore him – that plan had gone down the drain the second she stepped onto the bridge – but she could very well treat him indifferently. Marisa deliberately looked down at the control station in front of her, opening up the screen and punching in a code.

"Oh!" Kirk laughed, crossing his arms across his chest. "So now you're taking the high road?" His smirk widened. Marisa was beginning to think that it was permanently attached to his face. Her shoulders stiffened as she scrolled down the screen, her eyes not taking in anything that was written. "Or do you just not have a comeback? It's because it's true, isn't it?" He pressed on. "You think you're so much better than the rest of us. And you call _me_ arrogant!" He laughed again. "You're such a hypocrite."

"I am _not_ a hypocrite!" She snapped back. Alright, so much for keeping her temper. But she wasn't going to just sit there and let him attack her like that! Marisa's eyes flashed, and she subconsciously curled her hands into fists. "I don't think that at all." She kept her face towards the screen, though she could feel Kirk's presence behind her through every pore of her body. Pressing her lips together, she uncurled one hand and jammed in a button, pressing much harder than she needed to.

"Is that a little pent-up anger I'm sensing there?" Kirk's voice was so fake it made her head hurt. Marisa knew that if she turned around, he would be wearing that insufferable smirk, his blue eyes too bright. The bridge was silent; she was sure that everyone was watching the exchange. "So now you're giving me the silent treatment, huh?" He continued. "That's real mature, Ward. Again with the hypocrisy!" He shook his head. "_I'm_ the one you say is immature, and yet here you are, acting like a _child_."

That was _it_. Marisa shoved her chair back, standing up and whirling around. "_Don't,"_ she snapped, glaring at him. "Call me a _child_." Her eyes flashed dangerously, narrowed with rage as she stared at him. Kirk seemed a little taken aback by her suddenly movement. His eyes were wide, and Marisa was so close she could see that there were dark rings under them. She opened her mouth to continue, to stick up for herself, but she couldn't remember what she had been going to say.

God, why were his eyes so damn blue? She snapped her mouth shut again, her jaw clenched. She blinked. They were too bright, that's what. She was going to go blind. Yet somehow, she couldn't bring herself to look away. It was like they were magnetic. Kirk seemed to notice that, watching as the ire faded slowly from her eyes. Without meaning to, the corners of his mouth turned upwards into that unbearable smirk. _Dammit_, Marisa swore. She wrenched her gaze away, instead staring at a spot over his shoulder.

"I'm just trying to do my damn job, Kirk," she snapped, her anger flooding back. She glanced back at him, just to show him that he had absolutely no effect on her. "I suggest you do the same." With one last withering glare in his direction, she brushed right past him, stalking across the room and out the door. One of these days, she was going to strangle that man, and she didn't care how many regulations she was breaking when she did.

XXXXXX

"_What" _Nyota hissed, closing the door behind her, "in the hell was _that_ all about?" Marisa had practically ran through the empty hallways, desperate to get away from Kirk. She wasn't sure how she even made it to the bathroom, given that her entire vision was clouded over in a haze of angry red. Nyota had apparently followed her. Marisa paced back and forth in the tiny room, still bristling with anger. Whether it was directed at Kirk or at herself, she wasn't quite sure.

"God! He's just so…ugh!" She threw her hands up into the air, letting out a frustrated sigh. "It's like his sole purpose in life is to get under my skin." She turned on her heel. Nyota leaned against the counter.

"You know him," she told Marisa, her eyes kind. "He teases people, he pushes buttons. That's what he does. But I don't think I've ever seen him lay into someone as much as he did to you today. And with you still being new, too!" She was a little surprised about that. Kirk had gone farther that he usually did today.

Marisa groaned, stopping and letting her head drop back against the tiled wall behind her with a thump. "I just don't know what to do! From the second I stepped on to this ship its like he's out to get me. I tried ignoring him. That didn't work." She scowled. "I tried to treat him indifferently. That didn't work either. It's like I'm a game to him!" She banged her head against the wall again.

"Well," Nyota began slowly, glancing over at Marisa with a wary expression. She trailed off, not finishing her sentence. Marisa picked her head up, eyeing her friend suspiciously from across the small room.

"What?" She didn't like the look on the older woman's face.

"Don't take offense, okay?" Nyota started, her eyes betraying her worry. "It's just that Kirk probably knows he can get a rise out of you." Marisa opened her mouth to protest, and so Nyota rushed on. "Most people either ignore him or dismiss him. We're used to how he is and what he's like. You come along and snap back right away. You're stubborn, like he is, and you're got a temper, like he does." She shrugged. "You clash."

"_Like he does?"_ Marisa repeated, her eyes flashing. "Nyota, you cannot possibly compare me to that…that…_animal!_" Nyota winced. "I'm nothing like him! Sure, I might have a bit of a temper, but did you hear what he was saying to me? He was personally attacking me! I had to stand up for myself somehow!" She was shouting now, her voice echoing off the plain white tiled walls and the perfectly shiny mirrors.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't stand up for yourself," Nyota replied with a frown. "You just shouldn't give Kirk the satisfaction of what he wants and he'll eventually leave you alone. You're just a new plaything for him." Marisa winced. _Plaything?_ That was a bit harsh. She crossed her arms over her chest, breathing in deeply through her nose.

"I tried," she ground out. "For about five minutes. And then I just couldn't do it anymore. He just makes me _so_ angry." Her body tensed visibility, the memory of what had just happened on the bridge still fresh in her mind. The worst part was that damn smirk! He wasn't even really angry with her; he was just having fun, messing with her head. And Marisa was afraid to say that it worked.

"What happened there at the end?" Nyota asked, her lips curving upwards into a small, devious smile. Marisa frowned.

"You mean the part where he called me a child or the part where I yelled back at him?" She retorted sharply, still sore over being called Kirk's plaything. Nyota's grin widened.

"No, I meant the part where you couldn't keep your eyes off of him."

"Wha-what?" Marisa stuttered, her mouth falling open in surprise. "That is _not_ what happened. Not at _all_. I was _angry_ at him! I was _glaring at him_!" Her voice grew louder and a bit shrill as she protested. Damn. How had Nyota picked up on that? Marisa herself hadn't even known what happened. One moment she was ready to strangle him with her bare hands, and the next she couldn't look away. Nyota seemed unperturbed, still leaning against the counter with a knowing smile on her face.

"Of course you were," she replied calmly.

"_Nyota!_" Marisa was shocked. "How could you even _think_ that? I _hate_ Kirk, remember? Or did you not just see what happened in there?" She had uncrossed her arms and was moving them around as she talked, gesturing back towards the bridge. Her eyes were wide, disbelieving as her friend continued to smile.

"I think you're protesting a little too much," she continued. "What? Do you not find him attractive?"

"_No!_" Marisa replied quickly, sharply. "Not one bit. The sight of him makes me want to throw up, actually." She crossed her arms over her chest again. Nyota didn't say anything; she just continued to stare at Marisa, her brown eyes sparkling. Finally, Marisa threw up her hands.

"Alright, alright, I think he's attractive. Happy now?" She scowled. "I mean, _hello_! You've seen him. He's hot. We all know that. But that doesn't change the fact that he's an absolute _asshole_ with no respect for women and no care about anything that's not _him!"_

"But he _is _attractive," Nyota reminded her with a smile.

"Ugh!" Marisa let out a strangled yell of frustration, pushing off the wall and stalking out of the bathroom. "You're no help at all," she told her friend, letting the door slam behind her. Scowling, Marisa stalked off down the hallway, her hands clenched into fists at her side. As angry she was at Kirk for the scene he had caused at the bridge, she managed to have some anger left over for Nyota too. Who did she think she was, telling Marisa she and Kirk were _similar?_ And why the hell she did bring up how attractive he was?

Marisa didn't want to admit it, but there had been something there in the bridge. She had gotten up to face him and immediately forgot what she was going to say. Marisa didn't _forget_ things like that. But she sure as hell didn't get all weak-kneed and spacey because of a pair of damn blue eyes. She had just been momentarily taken aback by the proximity, that was all. Once she caught her breath she was able to reply.

Clearly, it was all Kirk's fault. Thank God she was working in Engineering tomorrow; she didn't think she could stand another day in his presence. She was going to have to see Chekhov about spending as little time as possible on the bridge. At least, until she figured out what to do about Kirk, that is. Because Marisa wasn't going to let some stuck-up, immature boy ruin her dream job. As she stomped down the hall back to her room, she was still fuming. The only problem was she couldn't decide who she was angrier with – Kirk, or herself.

_AN: Well, it's been awhile! *hides* I'm REALLY sorry it's taken me so long to update. I was gone practically all summer, and then school started up again and things got a little crazy. But I'm back into the story now and I know where I want it to go, so hopefully I'll be updating more regularly. Thanks so much to everyone who has kept reading and leaving reviews! You guys are the best._


	6. Chapter 6

**Trigger – Chapter 6**

Marisa let her eyes flicker closed, tilting her head back and letting the warm water run down her face. It felt so good to be able to get off all of the grime and grease from working on the weapons systems all day. She let her eyes open slowly, squirting shampoo into her hand and lathering up her hair. It would be nice to just go grab some dinner with Nyota and then crash early. It had been a long day, and Marisa was beyond tired.

It had been one of her best days on the Enterprise so far, though. And she hadn't seen Kirk at all. Absolutely no correlation between the two, of course. Oh, who was she kidding? She had an entire day without someone making fun of her, someone smirking at her, someone yelling at her, someone calling her a hypocrite, someone calling her a child, or someone making her so mad that she seriously contemplated murder. She had also had an entire day without getting mysteriously drawn to someone's too-bright blue eyes, but her mind didn't quite process that part.

Basically, Marisa had a good day because she hadn't seen Kirk. When she did see Kirk, she had a bad day. The line was thick; the sides were black and white. She wasn't quite sure then, why those eyes kept popping up in her head. As she rinsed the suds through her long blonde hair, she figured that Nyota – as much as she hated to admit – was right. Kirk was attractive. That was a fact. That didn't mean she was attracted _to_ him. His personality was enough of a turn off that he could have been a Greek god and she still wouldn't have been attracted to him.

It was quite the opposite, in fact. She loathed him. She loathed him on sight, she loathed him on principle. Clearly, he didn't like her either, so there didn't seem to be a problem there. Like she had said – black and white. There was a little something nagging in the back of her mind, a slight shade of gray creeping in. Marisa wasn't sure what it was, but it was clearly wrong. She shoved it back.

She turned the shower off, and was instantly struck at how quiet it was. All she could hear was the steady drip-drip-dripping of the water from the showerhead. Sighing softly, she wrapped herself in a towel, heading back out to her postage-stamp sized bedroom. It didn't take her long to get dressed and ready, her long blonde hair almost completely dry. She pulled it up in her usual ponytail, pulled on her Starfleet boots, and headed out the door. She didn't even wait for it to finish closing before she headed down the hallway towards the mess hall.

"Marisa!" She heard her name being called from across the room the moment she stepped through the doors. She glanced around, her eyes passing over the faces of many unfamiliar crewmembers before finally alighting on Uhura's. She was sitting at a table on the other side of the room with Chekhov, Sulu, Spock, McCoy….and Kirk. Marisa's face fell.

"_Marisa_!" Nyota called her name again, catching the look on her face. Marisa sighed. And her day had been going _so_ good up until now. She let her eyes flicker closed for a moment, drawing strength for the confrontation that was sure to come. She was going to stay calm. She wasn't going to let him ruin her day. This was, after all, black and white.

Pressing her lips together thinly, Marisa headed to the buffet line, filling her tray slowly. Sooner or later, she was going to have to go to that table. She didn't really know anyone else, so it wasn't like she had an excuse to sit elsewhere. Besides, she had promised Nyota she'd eat with her, and it would seem odd if she just suddenly didn't. Really, the woman must have planned this. Marisa was going to have to have a little chat with her later.

"Hey." She slid into the seat in between Nyota and Sulu, setting her tray down on the table. Kirk was at the opposite end of the table, and she had put him there purposefully. Marisa wasted no time in picking up her fork and digging into her meal. She had been working all day and she was _hungry_. Besides, if her mouth was occupied with eating, it couldn't go and make smartass comments to Kirk.

"Good evening, Cadet Ward," Spock greeted her formally, and Marisa couldn't help but smile slightly. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that he and Kirk were friends. They seemed to be polar opposites. Everyone else at the table repeated some form of the greeting, and even Kirk grunted slightly. Her smile widened. Maybe he was avoiding her too! He hadn't looked at her yet, that was for sure. Maybe this night wouldn't go as bad as she thought.

"Where's Scotty?" She asked, looking around for the older man. He had told her he'd meet up with her at dinner, and she was assuming that he'd take a considerable less time to shower than she did.

"Right here, right here," he grumbled, his voice coming from behind her. "Aren't you ever goin' to learn to be patient?" He sat down next to Chekhov, his tray filled with a sandwich the size of his head. Marisa just laughed.

"Holy hell, Scotty, is that thing big enough?" She shook her head. What was it with the Engineering Officer and his sandwiches? He ate one everyday, if not more. Marisa wasn't sure whether it was a habit or an addiction.

"Well, I tried to add bacon but then I couldn't fit me mouth around it," he replied, completely serious. He was looking down at the massive thing on his plate, as if he had just realized that it might pose the same threat even _without_ the bacon. Everyone laughed, and Marisa set her fork down, grinning. Leave it to Scotty to completely get rid of whatever tension there had been at the table.

"Do you remember when we first met, Scotty?" The sound of Kirk's voice made Marisa stiffen. Clearly, she wasn't oven yesterday's incident yet. Forcing herself to relax, she took another bite of her meal – more eating, less talking. Instead, she just listened.

"How could I forget it?" Scotty moaned. "I was stuck in that godforsaken ice trap with that _gremlin_ and _no food_ and then _you_ of all people come waltzing in going on about saving the universe and telling me what I did in the future." Scotty paused to take a breath, and Kirk filled in the rest.

"And the whole damn time you were talking about how all you wanted was a _sandwich_!" He chuckled, and the rest of the table joined in. Even Marisa couldn't help but laugh – it was just so typically Scotty. It was odd, sitting at the table with these people, laughing about some silly story that happened last year. It reminded her of being back at the Academy, her home for years, when she and Kim and their friends would sit around the table at lunch and gossip about who Kim liked this week and how difficult the quiz in their last class had been. That had been so _normal_.

The past week, however, had been anything but. It was like Marisa was living a whole other life. She had left the Academy; she had left Kim. She was in space for the first time, and aboard the best ship that Starfleet had at that. She had known no one and had to learn an entire new job, which she was expected to perform flawlessly. And she had met one of the most infuriating people she'd ever known, and she had felt like she'd been on a rollercoaster ever since.

Sitting here, though, just eating dinner and chatting about nothing at all, made the Enterprise seem less like some big new adventure and more like…home. Marisa smiled to herself, stabbing another bite with her fork as the conversation flowed on around her. She could get used to this.

"So, Ward." Her peaceful reverie was broken by the sound of McCoy's voice. She glanced up, meeting his gaze. Unfortunately, that meant she had to see Kirk out of the corner of her eye. Damn her and her good peripheral vision! She tried to block him out, instead focusing on the doctor sitting across from her. "Tell us more about yourself," he prompted.

"Tell you about myself?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow. Talk about vague. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know. Where you're from, what you like to do, that sort of thing. Whatever you kids talk about these days." He frowned, and Marisa smiled. The doctor seemed grumpy, but he had been nothing but nice to her since she had first stepped foot on the ship, and everyone else spoke quite highly of him.

"Well," she started off, absentmindedly twirling her fork in her pasta. She didn't really want to talk about herself - it was always a bit awkward – but she figured she might as well get it out of the way. McCoy didn't seem like the type to just let it go. "I grew up in Arizona. I have an older brother. My parents divorced when I was 12." She paused, glancing back up at McCoy. He seemed to be listened rather intently. So did everyone else at the table, actually, now that she looked around. She guessed they didn't get new people that often.

"I'm really not that interesting," she told them, setting her fork down. "I'd rather hear about you guys. I mean, you live on the Enterprise!" They had to have tons of fabulous stories about intergalactic adventures.

"No, no." It was Kirk who waved her off. "We're not that interesting either. Besides, you live on the Enterprise now, too." Huh. She supposed he was right about that. But she hadn't been there long enough to have a real space experience – unless you counted become mortal enemies with your captain and yet still managing to have a civil conversation at dinner with him.

"How old's your brother?" Nyota asked, prompting her. Marisa sighed inwardly, willing the conversation to die. Instead, she propped an elbow on the table, letting her chin rest in her hand.

"He's about five years older," she replied. "He works on Earth, at a company that researches new shuttle technology. He's an absolute genius." She smiled just thinking about Jason. She hadn't seen him in awhile, and she reminded herself to send a message to him later tonight to catch up.

"Does he still live in Arizona?" Nyota asked again. Marisa shot her a look. Couldn't they go back to telling stories about Scotty's obsession with sandwiches?

"No, he lives in New York now. But my mom still lives in my hometown. She's a teacher at the high school there." Marisa shrugged, taking another bite of her pasta. Maybe now no one would ask her any more questions.

"Why'd you join Star Fleet?" Sulu asked. She didn't know him that well, but he seemed nice enough whenever she had been on the bridge. That was a hard question though. She paused for a moment, finishing up her bite before answering.

"I don't know for sure. It was something new. I'd never seen space before." She replied with a shrug. It was a challenge. It was a change. It was an opportunity to make a difference. Marisa had never thought of doing anything else, especially after her brother went into the shuttle technology industry. He would come home for holidays and tell them about all the cool new things they were making and what ships were capable of doing. And now Marisa was finally on one.

"I remember when Kirk joined." Nyota spoke up, clearly catching Marisa's hint about ending the conversation. Thank goodness. She grinned at the man at the end of the table, and Kirk groaned. Marisa's interest was piqued.

"We were in Iowa, waiting for our transport shuttles to take us to the Academy the next day," she smiled to herself. McCoy was smiling too; he clearly knew the story. Marisa grinned, taking a sip of her water. "We went out that night to a bar in town. I went to order drinks, and who was there? Kirk, of course. He hit on me. I rejected him." Here, Kirk made a noise of protest, but Uhura held up her hand and he fell silent.

"The boys I was with didn't really appreciate it, but when has Kirk ever backed down from a challenge? Next thing I knew I had blood splattered across the front of my dress and the four of them were on the floor, wrestling around like animals." She rolled her eyes, and Scotty chortled loudly. "Somehow, Pike figured out that this made him a perfect candidate for Star Fleet and recruited him on the spot."

"What do you mean?" Kirk protested, though he was grinning. He looked much nicer when he was grinning than when he was smirking, Marisa noticed. "I _am_ the perfect Star Fleet candidate. After all, I'm captain, aren't I?" He spread his arms wide, his grin matching it. Marisa rolled her eyes.

"What was that for, Ward?" He asked. His voice was still teasing, but Marisa couldn't help but tense slightly. "Are you saying you doubt my captaincy?"

"I think I've made my opinions on that perfectly clear," she replied with a roll of her eyes. She knew she shouldn't – she was supposed to be eating, not talking! But she couldn't help it. She was never one to back down from good-natured banter, despite the fact that she knew it could go downhill fast. Kirk was still grinning, not smirking, so that was good. It was only when he started attacking her character when Marisa knew she was in trouble.

"Well, I can't argue with that," he replied, leaning forward slightly. To her left, Nyota laughed. Marisa took a chance and looked up from her pasta, glancing towards the end of the table. He was still smiling, his blue eyes brighter than usual. He was looking right at her. So was Spock, she noticed as her gaze shifted to the left. His expression was much harder to make out.

"What do you think? Think you could be captain, Ward?" He pressed on, raising an eyebrow. He just wasn't going to let it go, was he? She sighed.

"I don't particularly want to be." She replied simply. _Unlike you, I'm not on a power trip_. Luckily, she kept this last part in her head.

"Oh," Kirk replied, the corners of his lips curling upwards. "So you don't think you can handle the pressure? You don't think you're got the skills?"

"I don't think I have the ego," she replied, the words slipping out of her mouth before she even had a chance to think about it. Dammit. Well, she couldn't take them back now. He leaned back. She chanced another look at him. He was still smiling, but the look in his eyes had her worried. Was that smile turning into a smirk?

"So you think I've got an ego, do you?" He replied. "You think I'm full of myself?" He was looking straight at her, and Marisa made sure to not look directly into his eyes. She instead focused on his lips instead, watching as they formed the words. He had very nice lips, she found herself thinking. Dammit. She cursed again. What the hell was she thinking? She frowned.

"Yes, I think you're full of yourself." She replied, a bit short. Truthfully, she was distracted by the errant thought that had just passed through her mind. Why did she just think that? He did _not_ have nice lips. And even if they were nice in shape, that was all that she meant. After all, Westerners perceived beauty through symmetry. Kirk just had symmetrical lips. That had absolutely nothing to do with what lips _did_. Ah! She willed herself to stop thinking about his lips. Instead, she dragged her gaze up to meet his eyes. Sure, it was a bad idea, but she was a little concerned with what she had just realized. She wasn't exactly thinking straight.

"So you think I'm full of it," he repeated, his eyes sparkling dangerously. Marisa's own eyes narrowed. Where was he going with this? "Well, guess what? I think you're kind of full of it too. After all, you have to have a certain about of ego of your own to be able to call me out on my bullshit." He smirked. Damn!

"So you admit it's bullshit?" She decided to ignore the comment about her ego, instead focusing on the offensive. Because clearly, defending herself against false accusations wasn't her strong point. Sure, she got the message across, but her rationality went out the window. Better to keep Kirk on his toes instead.

"You think it is," he replied, leaning forward again. "So you admit you're arrogant too?"

"I never said that," she shot back.

"You didn't have to. It was implied."

"Like hell it was!" She was leaning forward too, her dinner forgotten. As was her plan to not talk to Kirk. That's the third Kirk-related goal in two days at which she had utterly failed. Clearly, coming to the Enterprise had completely ruined whatever self-control she had.

"Listen to yourself! Everyone else is just sitting here, letting me go on with my so-called bullshit. You're the one always rolling your eyes or scoffing at me. Clearly, you think you're so above all of us, including me." He smirked, a full, all-out, devious Kirk smirk. Holy hell, those things should be made illegal.

"Everyone else is just sitting here," she replied, raising her eyebrows, "because they're grown used to you. I'm new. I expected my captain to be a nice, responsible, mature leader – not some pig who asked me out to dinner my first five minutes on the ship!" Her voice grew a bit louder, and so did her anger as she watched Kirk's smile widen with the memory.

"Forgive me if I'm a bit confused on how someone like you became captain," she continued, her voice flat, "and that I have enough _sense_ to call you out on it before you get us all _killed_." Kirk raised an eyebrow, propping his elbows on the table and leaning forward even more.

"You think I'm going to get you _killed_? Such little trust, Ward. It hurts, really." She rolled her eyes. "See? There you go with the eye-rolling again!"

"Because trust is the absolute _last_ word that comes to mind when I think of you!" She shot back with a disbelieving little laugh.

"Well you're going to have to learn to trust me," Kirk replied with a devious smile. "Because like it or not, I'm your captain."

"Again with the whole captain thing!" Marisa cried, throwing her hands up into the air. "You don't think I don't _know_ that by now? You repeat it every five damn minutes! Clearly, you just like the sound of it – or your own voice. Or both, actually." She shook her head. "And you wonder why I think you're arrogant."

"Well clearly you use a little reminding," Kirk shot back "Unless this is the way you treat all your superiors."

"It's the way I treat people who sexually harass me at work!" She glared at him.

"I was only trying to be friendly."

"Oh, of _course_." She laid the sarcasm on thick. "Why didn't I think of that? You must ask everyone out to dinner with that insufferable little smirk."

"What if I did?"

"Then I'd seriously question your sexuality – or your sanity." She was glaring now

"You'd question my sexuality?" He repeated. The smirk was back in full-force. "Then clearly I haven't been doing my job well enough." He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't even _think_ about it Kirk." She leveled her gaze at him. "You can't just harass people like that!"

"I don't _harass_ people," he countered, the smirk sliding off of his face. "You're overreacting. Most people enjoy a little teasing now and then to lightening things up."

"Oh!" She laughed, a humorless, dark laugh that was too loud and too sharp. "Of course. _Teasing_. Because I _enjoy_ being called arrogant. Or a hypocrite. Or a _child_." She hissed, her eyes narrowing.

"Maybe you should learn not to take things so damn seriously." He shot back, all humor gone from his eyes.

"Maybe you should learn some manners. Or did your mother never teach you those?"

"Actually," Kirk replied, his voice flat. His entire face had changed, and it made Marisa pause. His eyes were steely; gray almost. There was no humor in them anymore. His jaw was rigid – there wasn't even a hint of a smile on his symmetrical lips. He was angry, angrier than she had ever seen him before. "Actually, she didn't. She was _dead_." He spat out the last word like a particularly nasty curse, or a medicine that tasted absolutely vile. Marisa was dumbstruck.

Kirk stood up from the table abruptly, knocking over some of the drinks. Without another word, he swept from the room. Everyone in the mess hall had fallen silent; they were looking over at the table their captain had just left in such a rage. Everyone at the table, on the other hand, was staring at Marisa. Marisa was still staring at the spot where Kirk had been sitting just a minute ago.

Why did this always happen? Could they not even have a civil conversation without it descending into an all-out war? One minute they had been fine, bantering back and forth almost like friends. The next, he was furious and he was gone. Of course, most of the time it was her who lost her temper. This was a change. She supposed she should be glad she had the upper hand – she had won, so to speak. But she wasn't. Kirk's anger had been different than hers. When Marisa was angry, she was loud and vicious and sarcastic. When Kirk was mad, he was silent and fuming, locked down. His anger was deep.

And Marisa hadn't helped by hitting a sore spot. Not that she meant to or anything – how was she supposed to remember his entire family history? She had enough things to be worrying about. And yet she couldn't help but feel bad. His mother _had_ died after all. For a moment, she considered apologizing. But hold up! Had Kirk apologized for the way he treated her? _No. _He'd _justified_ it! She had given him plenty of opportunity during the conversation, and he'd either brushed her off or made excuses! He was _impossible_.

She stood up from the table as abruptly as Kirk had, though without upending anyone's glass. The liquid was still pooled on the table, dripping to the floor. No one had made a move to clean it up. She swept her eyes over the table one last time, a small frown on her face. Sulu looked confused. Nyota looked concerned, and so did Chekhov and Scotty. McCoy looked thoughtful, his eyes piercing into her. And Spock, well, who ever knew what Spock was thinking? He probably knew what she was thinking herself. Well, let them think what they want, she decided. And with that, she left the mess hall, cursing the day she ever met Captain James T. Kirk.

A_N: Well look at that! A semi-regular update! Crazy, I know. This chapter was just eh for me. It didn't turn out as well as I would have liked it – I can't seem to get their dialogue down. And just to let people know, there will be a bit more action coming in future chapters instead of just daily life. Anyway, thanks for all your reviews guys! xo, bassline._


	7. Chapter 7

**Trigger – Chapter 7**

Marisa paced back and forth in the tiny hallway, her hands clasped behind her back. Should she knock? Or should she wait until later – breakfast tomorrow morning, maybe? Or maybe she shouldn't apologize at all. After all, he had never apologized for mistreating her. _No_, she reminded herself firmly. She was going to take the high road. She was going to be the better person.

She sighed, stopping in the middle of the corridor. Why was this so damn hard for her to do? She wasn't always this stubborn. She liked to think she was a relatively well-balanced person. Lately, however, Marisa knew that all evidence pointed the other direction. She was flying off the handle left and right, going from zero to sixty in less than a second. She couldn't control what she was saying or what she was feeling, and she didn't like it one bit.

A strand of blonde hair floated in front of her eyes, and Marisa reached up and tucked it back behind her ear. No matter what she did, there were always a few strands that were too short to fit into her ponytail. Sighing again, Marisa began pacing once more. She really should knock. She just needed to get this over with. Her plan was simply to apologize and then run in the opposite direction before he managed to reply. Marisa knew that if he did, she would inevitably find something offensive in it and snap back, and before she knew it they would be right back to hating each other's guts.

"Are you going to stand out there all night, Ward?" Her head snapped up, and she stopped in mid-step. Dammit. Kirk's door had hissed open without her noticing, and he was leaning casually against the doorframe.

"No," she replied, glaring. Double damn. She had lost her element of surprise, and now Kirk had the upper hand. Marisa felt off-balance. What did she say now? Would her apologize-and-run plan still work? She crossed her arms over her chest, deliberately staring at the floor.

"Well, then," Kirk continued with a smirk. "Do you have something to say to me?" Marisa took a deep breath. _You can do it, Ward._ She told herself. It was just two little words, after all. Well, two little words and a big hit to her pride and enough fodder for a week's worth of teasing. Oh, damn.

"I wanted to say," she began, steeling herself. She glanced up, finding a spot above Kirk's left shoulder to stare at. "I wanted to say that I was sorry." The words came out in a rush, tripping over themselves in their haste to get out. Marisa's cheeks flushed, but she held her gaze where it was. There – she had said it.

"You're…_sorry_? Is that what you said?" Kirk squinted, leaning forward a bit. If he was trying to get her to repeat it, then he was out of luck. There was no way in _hell_ Marisa was saying that again.

"Yes," she replied stiffly. She crossed her arms tighter. A few more seconds now, and she could leave. She could run down the hall all the way to her room and lock herself in and write a long letter to Kim about how much she hated life right about now.

"Well, that's not something you hear everyday." He was too cheerful, leaning up against that stupid doorframe with that stupid grin on his face. Marisa had known this was going to happen. "What exactly are you sorry for? Everything?"

"Not everything," Marisa replied immediately. She bit her tongue. Why couldn't her brain learn to catch up with her mouth and keep her from saying stupid things? "I'm sorry for my comment earlier at dinner." She closed her eyes, forcing the words out once more. "About you mom. I didn't….I didn't mean it." There! Her eyes flicked open again. She had done it.

"Oh." She glanced a bit up and to the left, chancing a look at his reaction. He looked almost…thoughtful, which wasn't in his usual repertoire of facial expressions. She paused for a moment, not quite sure what to make of this. She had expected to flee back to her room to the sound of gleeful laughter and vicious taunts. Kirk seemed to be actually taking this seriously.

"Are you _sure_ you're only apologizing for that?" He continued, a grin suddenly appearing on his face. "Because I've got a whole _list_ of things that you ought to be sorry for." Marisa scowled darkly. Damn him for luring her into a false sense of security! And to think she had even _considered_ the fact that Kirk might have been serious for even a second! Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm sure," she ground out. Kirk opened his mouth, probably to remind her about everything she had done since she arrived that he deemed worthy of an apology, but a loud wailing cut him off.

"Ah!" Marisa cried, ducking instinctively. The corridor flashed with a red light that pulsed on and off like a strobe. She could hardly hear herself think over the ear-splitting sound, and it took her a few minutes to overcome the shock. She glanced up at Kirk, but he had already closed the door behind him and was heading towards the bridge.

"Let's go Ward." He turned back and grabbed her wrist, tugging her along after him. For once, she didn't even protest.

"What's going on?" She asked him, glancing around to see the rest of the crew exiting their rooms, dashing through the corridors towards their posts. She had to take three steps for every one of Kirk's strides to keep up with him. "What's the alarm for?"

"We're under attack." In the glow of the red flashing light, Marisa could see that his face was grim. The smirk had been completely erased, and his eyes were focused only on the hallway in front of him. Marisa stumbled slightly in her boots, but Kirk just yanked up back up, his fingers wrapped so tightly around her wrist that her fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Captain!" Someone cried out the moment they entered the bridge. Everything was in absolute chaos. Even for Marisa, who had hardly been on the ship for a week, knew that something was seriously wrong.

"Captain, we're under attack." That was Spock now, standing right next to them. Marisa had no idea how he got there. Kirk was still holding on to her wrist, but her knees felt a bit weak as she looked around. She could see Chekhov up at the weapons station, frantically typing in codes to the computer. She needed to help him.

"Who is it?" Kirk asked, letting go of Marisa's wrist and striding across the bridge. He took a seat in the captain's chair, leaning forward so that his elbows resting on his knees. "How many ships? What are they shooting? Do you know what they want?" He looked around the room. "Chekhov, how're the shields holding up?"

"It's Talosians," he replied, his voice thin. "We're okay for now, but they've got more guns than us. We won't last forever." Marisa hadn't moved. She looked from Kirk's grim face to Chekhov's pale one. Uhura was bent over her communications station, frantically trying to get in touch with Starfleet to call for backup. Sulu's face was tense as he opened up a screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard. It was so surreal to think that just a minute ago she had been arguing with Kirk over something as stupid as apologizing.

There wasn't a lot of talking, but the whole room seemed so _loud_. She supposed it was just the tension, the pressure of the whole situation. Marisa shook her head, willing herself to snap out of it. After all, this wasn't training anymore – this was a real live emergency, and they needed her help. She strode quickly across the room, taking her seat in front of the weapons system next to Chekhov. The curly-haired man didn't even spare her a glance as he continued punching in codes to activate the weapons. Marisa watched what he was doing for a couple of seconds, trying to catch up.

"I'm firing the nose guns now," he told her, slightly breathless. "Can you check the shield strength? Let me know how the starboard side is doing," he told her. "That's where they seem to be aiming for the most." Marisa simply nodded, keying in her I.D. code and pulling up the shield schematics. The right sight was pulsing yellow. That wasn't a good sign.

"Overall we're at a 74%," she told him. "But the starboard bow is only at 60%, and going down fast." Chekhov cursed, and Marisa quickly pulled up another screen. "Have you started firing the stern guns yet?" She asked him.

"No," he replied quickly. "I'm just doing the bow ones now. Pull up and couple and get them shooting – the ships are off of our starboard side, three of them." He reached up and wiped his hand across his face, and Marisa could see that his forehead was glistening with sweat. He was nervous. She gulped, pausing for a moment as she entered in her code. Just how bad was this attack? Was it worse than most skirmishes? Marisa looked around at the rest of the crew, the rest of her friends, frantically trying to fight off the invaders. Even Kirk was all business, pacing around the bridge now and yelling out orders to everyone. Marisa couldn't follow fast enough to tell exactly what was going on, but it didn't sound good.

Suddenly, a blast hit the side of the ship and the whole Enterprise rocked. Marisa found herself flung backwards in her chair, sliding away from the controls. A few people had fallen over, their shrieks echoing through the room.

"Let's go, let's go!" Kirk shouted. "Uhura, have you managed to contact Starfleet yet?" Without waiting for her to answer, he pressed on. "Sulu, a little more to the right. Turn the ship around as much as you can – we're got to protect our starboard bow. If she goes, it's all over. Ward, Chekhov, fire everything we've got! We need more power." He walked across the room to talk with one of the other captains, and Marisa turned back to her station.

As she glanced down at the keyboard in front of her, however, she paused. _If she goes, it's all over_. She could hear Kirk's words in her mind, echoing over and over again. _It's all over_. That couldn't happen. It was Marisa's first week on the ship – she hardly knew what she was doing on a regular day, much less in an emergency. Everyone had been laughing and joking around just that evening. Everything had been fine. And now, here they were, a few shots away from it all being _over_.

"_Ward_!" She could hear his voice from across the bridge, and for once it didn't provoke any reaction but panic, which was already brewing in her system. "_Where_ are the stern guns?" She shook her head frantically, looking back down at the keyboard. The stern guns, the stern guns. Marisa couldn't remember the activation code! Another blast hit the ship, less intense this time. She checked the shields – 66%.

"Here, here!" Chekhov leaned over and punched in the code on her screen, his fingers flying so quickly over the keys that they were just a blur. The machine beeped, and Marisa could picture the stern guns sliding out from their recesses, ready to go. She bit her lip

"Thanks, Chekhov." He didn't seem to hear; he was already back at work, looking at the shields and the guns and the radar all at once, his eyes flying back and forth. Marisa turned back to her screens and pulled up the schematics for the stern guns to check their power. She had worked on them with Scotty the other day, so they should be ready to go. Glancing up, she checked the enemy ships' coordinates on the radar and quickly punched them in, aiming the guns in the proper direction.

_Bam!_ Marisa was flung out of her seat entirely, landing with a crash on the ground. Her knee banged up against the control station as her head hit the ground. She hadn't even had time to scream. A new wave of panic broke out as people rushed to get back to their stations. Marisa slowly pulled herself to her knees, but her right leg was throbbing and her head was spinning. She stopped for a moment to let a wave of nausea pass. She wasn't sure if the ship was actually listing to starboard or if it was all in her head. Suddenly, she felt a strong hand grasp her forearm, the strong fingers wrapping around it like it was just a toothpick. She stumbled as she was pulled to her feet.

"Come on, Ward." Marisa looked up to meet a pair of bright blue eyes narrowed in concentration. Kirk's mouth was set in a thin line, and his face was just inches from her own. "Pull yourself together. We need you." Just as quickly as he was there, he released her wrist and was back across the bridge again, talking urgently to Spock in the corner. Marisa swayed slightly, but managed to get back over to her chair.

_Come on, Ward_. She set her jaw, pressing her lips together tightly as she pulled up the stern guns again. _Pull yourself together_. She checked to make sure that their aim was true, powering them up completely. The ship rocked again, and a fresh wave of screams broke out. She could hear something metallic pop in the background. _We need you_. She fired.

* * *

_AN: I'm still here! I haven't abandoned this story, I promise. Things have been absolutely crazy lately, but exams are next week and after that I should have some more free time to write. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing – it means a lot to me! So there's definitely a lot more action in this chapter, and things are starting to pick up. Hope you enjoyed it!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Trigger – Chapter 8**

She was alive. She could tell because of the way her head was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to split in two. There was a slight pain in her knee. Something stung on her shoulder. Her entire body ached. That's what she was first aware of – the pain.

She could feel the floor. It was smooth and cool, like ice against her cheek. Slowly, the pieces began to click together. Her cheek was on the floor. That meant she was on the floor. Why was she on the floor? Marisa's brain was fuzzy, and trying to think only made her head throb more. What had happened? Slowly, the black fog began to lift off of her mind. She could hear now, though there wasn't much sound. There was a hiss, a steady thump somewhere off in the distance. A faint whine. She heard footsteps grow closer, and then farther away again. Someone groaned.

She wasn't alone. But she couldn't see anything – it was dark. Her eyelid twitched. Oh – her eyes were closed. She tried to open them, but they remained stubbornly glued shut. She took a deep breath in, and even the feeling of her lungs expanding felt strange and unfamiliar. She tried to open her eyes again and slowly, her eyelids lifted. Immediately, she shut them again. It was bright – too bright. It was bright like it had been on the Enterprise, with its white and chrome and newness. _The Enterprise_.

She had been on the Enterprise, she remembered that. There was something in the back of her mind, something important. It was just out of her reach, like something that flitted just out of view but every time you turned your head to try and see what it was it disappeared. She reached out again, struggled to grasp the fluttering thoughts at the periphery of her mind. Suddenly, a picture of chaos crossed in front of her. There had been a fight; they had been under attack.

Talosians. The strange word appeared in her mind; Marisa could see the letters, thick and black. There was another muffled groan. Something about the starboard shields. Marisa scrunched her face, thinking so hard that it was almost bringing her physical pain. Why couldn't she remember? Why did it feel like her mind was hazy, like a blanket had been pulled over her head and she could only make out the faintest traces of what was going on?

She had been on the Enterprise and they were under attack. By the Talosians. Marisa had been checking the starboard shields; Kirk was worried about that side of the ship. _Kirk_. She been arguing with him, she remembered now. And then the alarm had rung. Their shields had been low. She remembered Kirk gripping her arm and helping her up. She remembered firing the stern guns. It was too late. Even now, after it had happened, the thought sent a rush of cold dread straight to the pit of her stomach. It had been too late.

The Talosians had boarded the ship and taken everyone from the bridge. Marisa didn't know if they had gotten everyone. She just remembered their oversized heads, the skin stretched around their huge brains looking perilously thin. She remembered hearing an angry roar, a string of curses, the sound of shooting. She remembered slipping from her chair. Then she remembered no more.

The floor felt colder beneath her cheek now, colder than the ice it had been before. Maybe she felt colder too. She must be on the Talosian ship. She was a prisoner. She took another deep breath, and opened her eyes. The light wasn't quite as bright this time. She was fully conscious; the fog had lifted off her brain. Still, it took her a minute to realize what she was seeing.

Someone's back was in front of her, somewhere wearing the Starfleet uniform. Slowly, Marisa moved. She needed to sit up. She placed a hand on the cold smooth floor, and tried to pull herself up. The slightly movement caused her head to spin, however, and she stopped. Taking a few deep breaths, Marisa tried again, pulling herself up until she could sit. Her eyes snapped closed; she breathed in and out heavily and she tried to stop the wave of nausea that had washed over her.

After a few moments of silence, she opened her eyes again, slowly, and looked around. She was in a small room, all white. She could see the crack of the door in the wall in front of her, but there was no metal box – no keypad or swipe-pad or fingerprint-pad that would let them open the door. This room was not designed for people to get out of.

The others were in there too. The back in front of her was Sulu. She could see Chekhov next to him. Uhura was still slumped against the wall, but Spock was alert, sitting next to her. She looked over and met his eye.

"You are awake."

"As are you." She replied, her tongue thick in her mouth. "What happened?"

"Poison." Spock replied. He seemed to have no trouble speaking. "Alkaloid-based, if I'm not mistaken. The only side effects so far seem to be our lack of consciousness. Though I don't recall drinking anything. They must have used another method." Marisa nodded slowly. Another loud groan echoed through the small room. In front of her, Sulu stirred.

"What 'appened?" Marisa turned her head to see that Kirk was behind her, just picking himself off of the floor.

"Poison." Spock repeated.

"Feels like my head's bashed in."

"Once you're conscious, it doesn't take very long for your brain to regain its complete capabilities. You should be feeling back to normal in about another minute and a half." Spock looked the same as always, perfectly put-together and calm. Kirk, on the other hand, looked like he had – well, looked like he had just gone through battle and was knocked unconscious and had just woken up. Marisa didn't even want to know what she looked like.

It didn't take long for the others to stir as well – it seemed as if they'd all been given about the same amount of the poison. Slowly, people began to sit up and open their eyes. From the looks on their faces, they felt about as good as Marisa did.

"Damn," Kirk swore, rubbing a hand across his face as he slumped against one of the walls. "This didn't turn out very well." Marisa snorted.

"Keep your negativity to yourself, please, Ward." He snapped in her direction. She narrowed her eyes.

"What do we do now?" Sulu asked, looking around at the rest of the captured Enterprise officers.

"We wait," Marisa replied simply, leaning back against the wall behind her.

"We find a way out," Kirk replied at the same time. He looked over at her incredulously. "We _wait_? Good plan, Ward." He scoffed. "I, for one, don't plan on being stuck on this godforsaken ship forever."

"Just how, then, do you suggest we get out of here?" She shot back. "There's no way out, Kirk."

"Again with the negativity, Ward! Have you even looked yet?" He was frustrated, she could tell. His brow was furrowed, a frown on his face. It looked strange. She was used to the smirk.

"There's not much to look at, if you haven't noticed," she snapped back. Clearly, being drugged and imprisoned had taken a bit of a toll on her mood.

"So you suggest we just wait?" He replied, giving a bitter little laugh.

"If you'd paid attention back at the Academy," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "You'd realize what standard procedure is when dealing with war prisoners. They're going to come and get us at one point. Don't you think, _Captain_, that there's a reason we were captured? Most people don't attack Starfleet ships for fun."

"Alright then, Ward. Tell me. _Why _are we sitting in this damn room?" His eyes were flashing dangerously now. Marisa was treading on thin ice. It was Spock, however, and not Marisa, who answered.

"Talosians are similar to the Vulcan race in that they do not experience emotion." He spoke softly, and yet both Marisa and Kirk stopped and looked at him. "They often capture other species in order to improve their knowledge of what eludes them. Considering humans are highly emotional beings, I doubt that they could pass up the opportunity to study us."

"I'll show them emotion all right," Kirk growled, his hands curling into fists.

"You're going to growl at them?" Marisa scoffed. "Nice."

"Listen, Ward." He glared. "Enough with the attitude. We're not sitting around the table at lunch, joking around. This is serious. I am captain, and if we're going to get out of here alive, then you're going to have to learn to respect my authority." Marisa opened her mouth to speak, but something about the look on Kirk's face made her close it again. He looked – well, he looked serious.

"Your inability to perform has already landed us in this position." He continued. His face was devoid of any trace of humor, no sparkling eyes or dimples or smirks. His mouth was a thin line, and she could tell that his jaw was clenched. "If your impertinence further jeopardizes our escape, then you'll find yourself on the first shuttle back to Earth the second we get to the Enterprise. That is," he added darkly, "if you're not dead."

She should have kept her mouth shut. She knew that he was right. But she couldn't help herself. After all, she wasn't going to let him blame this on her. It was every bit as much his fault. And just because he was sitting up on his captain's chair being all high and mighty did not give him _any_ right to put this on her shoulders. She wasn't sure whether it was the poison or the stress or the danger or her absolute lack of control over her temper, but before she knew what was happening, her mouth was opening.

"_My_ inability?"

"_Yes_," Kirk ground out. "Or do you not remember freezing in the middle of battle and having Chekhov cover your ass?" His words were harsh – he meant them to hurt.

"Captain," Chekhov cut in nervously, but Marisa cut him off.

"I froze _once_." She replied, her voice practically a hiss as it escaped her clenched teeth. "Once! No harm done. I still fired all my guns. It's not my fault you couldn't keep control of your ship." Immediately after her last words left her mouth, however, she regretted them.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me I can't keep control of my ship!" Kirk was yelling now. She recognized the look on his face – it was just like the expression he wore the day in the mess hall. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were dark and narrowed. It was pure anger, real and deep. It was so real she almost flinched, like his words were lasers directed at her.

"Don't you _dare_ blame this all on me!" She shouted back, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

"Damn it, Ward!" He shouted. "Why can't you just shut the hell up? I am _captain_!"

There was a beep, and the door slid open. Immediately, everyone's head snapped towards the door. At some point during the argument, both Marisa and Kirk had gotten to their feet. Everyone else was still sitting down, and Marisa could clearly see the shock written across everyone's face.

Immediately, all of the anger leaked out of her. Kirk was right. He was right about every damn thing. She had no right to question his ability as a captain, especially not now. She should have shut up and listened to him, no matter how deep his words stung. It didn't matter that she was irate at being poisoned and stuck in a small room with him. It didn't matter that her head was still spinning and she had lashed out. It didn't matter.

It was the Talosians. The image she had of the battle, the memory of them boarding the ship and marching into the bridge, the snapshot of one of them bending over her just as she slid to the floor. They flashed across her mind as she stared at the door now, filled with the oversized heads of their captors. She was right – they had come for them.

Before she knew what was happening, one of them had entered the room. Marisa sucked in her breath, not daring to move as the Talosian's eyes roamed around the room. He pointed at Kirk, and then, slowly, his arm swung towards Marisa. Four Talosians, who Marisa hadn't noticed before, marched into the room. Two of them grabbed her, their cold hands closing tightly around her upper arms.

"Hey!" She cried, trying to wrench her arms free from their grasp. "Let go of me, you big-headed bastards! You can't just grab me like that!" Several loud curses and grunt told her that Kirk was trying to do the same thing. Marisa frantically tried to catch Uhura's gaze, but she looked right through Marisa, her eyes glazed over. _What the hell? _Did the potion have another side effect? She turned to see if any of her other crewmates were experiencing the same thing, but the Talosians had already pushed her out the door and into the corridor.

Suddenly, something tight snapped around her wrists, pinning them behind her back. The Talosians let go, and Marisa grimaced. There were going to be bruises on her arms, she was sure of it. The brainiacs started down the hallways, which was plain and white and looked just like the room they had come from. Marisa stood still for a moment, wondering if she could outrun them, when she felt a sharp prod from behind. Another one of the aliens was behind her, pushing her forward.

"Alright, alright, I can walk by myself!" She snapped, wrenching herself away from him. Creepy little bastards. As she walked down the hall after the Talosians, she glanced over at Kirk next to her. He, too, had been restrained. He didn't look at her, however; he kept his gaze towards the floor. As they walked, Marisa looked around, looking for any way of escape in the plain white walls. There was no way in _hell_ she was going to let these big-headed idiots observe her emotions.

_AN: *hides* I am so, so, sorry! I am the worst updater on the face on the planet. Honestly, I am. I don't even know the last time I updated. But I have now! There's a new chapter! And hopefully there won't be as long of a wait until the next one. Thank you guys so, so much for your reviews and your messages. They're what keep me writing, truly._


	9. Chapter 9

_AN: I've decided that my muse is like a mismatched sock. You know, the one that's shiny and new in the beginning and you wear for a few times and then it loses its partner in the wash and sits in your draw for a little while until you dig it out again. Then you pair it with another mismatched sock and wear it for a bit and then it ends up under your bed where it sits gathering dusts until you clean your room and throw it in the wash and then it sits in your drawer and the whole thing is a vicious cycle, really, and you only end up wearing the sock a few times. That's my muse. And I'm pretty sure it's been under the bed for however long its been since I've updated. But I really really do want to finish this story, and I do have it planned until the end. So I'm terribly sorry to keep you all waiting so long, but with many apologies and freshly baked cookies, here's chapter nine._

**Trigger – Chapter 9**

Marisa inhaled. She took a step. She exhaled. In and out, in and out, she told herself, the air whoosing through her lungs in time with her footsteps. That was about the only thing she could hear right now – her steady, even breathing and their footsteps as they made their way down to blinding white corridor.

The slightest movement of his arms caused her wrists to chafe against their restraints; she could feel the skin being rubbed raw. No matter how many ways she twisted them, however, they stayed put. Clearly, the Talosians had known they would hold – they had done nothing to stop her. It didn't help that her arms were behind her back, either. Marisa couldn't even see what bound her wrists, which was making it difficult to try and get out of it.

That was really her only option, she realized. She had to escape. Spock had said that the Talosians would observe their emotions, but Marisa had paid close enough attention in the Academy to know that the human definition of 'observing' didn't always match up with other species'. In Marisa's world, 'observing' didn't involve any sort of probe.

She wondered briefly where they were taking them. They had passed quite a few doors since they had left their white-walled prison, just like the plain silver one that she had exited from. The hallway seemed never-ending, curving slightly to the right as they walked forward. Were they headed to a lab, maybe? Or some sort of observation room?

_In and out_, she told herself, concentrating on her breathing. That way, she didn't have to think about other things – like the fact that they were imprisoned on a strange ship by potentially dangerous creatures that wanted something from them. She knew, deep in the back of her mind, that there was a very good chance she would never make it back to the Enterprise. Her breath hitched in her throat, the rhythm breaking. She might never go back.

Her eyes cut sideways, landing on Kirk's face. Unlike her, he was facing straight ahead, his chin jutted outward. If his hands hadn't been behind his back and two Talosians hadn't been flanking him, he would have looked like he was walking into the bridge on the Enterprise, ready for another day of ordering everyone around.

_No_, she told herself, pressing her lips together tightly. He didn't just arbitrarily order people around. He was trying to help. He was trying to prevent them from doing stupid things like getting captured by big-headed bozos who didn't even speak English. He was trying to keep them from getting killed.

And what had she done? She had argued with him. She had fought back, daring to think that she, a cadet fresh out of the Academy, might know a thing or two more about Starfleet than Captain James Tiberius Kirk. It was easy now, in the silence, to realize how stupid she had been. The bright light that washed over the ship – yet seemed to have no particular origin – made things abundantly clear.

In the din of the mess hall, however, or the shadowy corridor outside his room, things were different. He wasn't trying to save their lives when he asked her to dinner. He wasn't trying to run his ship when he called her child.

"_You know him_." Nyota's words floated through her head. _"He teases people, he pushes buttons. That's what he does."_ And Marisa, with her too-short temper and her knack for always taking things a bit too seriously, had been offended. So she snapped back. She sighed, softly enough to not break the silence that had settled over them. Why couldn't she had just rolled her eyes at Kirk's antics like everyone else and gone back to work? Why did he rile her up so much?

He was still looking straight ahead, and it was odd to see his lips not curled up in their familiar smirk. Well, he hadn't been smirking much lately, she realized. In fact, the last time she had seen his eyes dancing as he teased her was….oh God. It had only been earlier that evening. At least that's when Marisa thought it was. She wasn't quite sure how long they had been out under the effects of the Talosians' poison. It could be next week for all she knew.

Suddenly, Kirk's head swiveled towards her. Once again, Marisa found that her steady, even breathing jolted - a quick gasp threw a wrench in the pattern. As her eyes met his electric blue ones, she saw not mocking laughter or even the righteous anger they had been burning with earlier. She saw a plan.

He jerked his head to the side slightly, towards the Talosian next to him. "_On three." _His lips shaped the unspoken words, and Marisa inclined her head in understanding. This was going to be their only chance at escape, their only chance to help the others get off the ship. They would have to attack at precisely the same time, and there couldn't be any screw-ups. Marsia frantically wracked her brain for what little she could remember from her hand-to-hand combat classes. After all, she was a Weapons Officer – she always felt better with a gun in her hand.

What should she do first? Elbow? Kick? She couldn't do much with her hands behind her back, so she was going to have to get creative. She eyed one of the Talosians curiously. Did their extra-large brains make their craniums extra-weak? The skin looked thin, but she wasn't sure whether or not the skull was too. Marisa didn't have any more time to think, however, because Kirk started counting. _One_. She tensed slightly, her steps slowly imperceptibly as she watched his thin lips curve around the numbers. _Two._ This was their chance. _Three_.

Without warning, Marisa stopped, kicking out at the creature at her side. She wasn't quite sure what the anatomy of a Talosian was, but tried to aim for what she thought was the gut. A low grunt and a shock spreading from the toes of her Starfleet boots up her leg told her she had hit her mark. She jabbed her elbow out on the other side, but her guard was been ready – he grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her painfully.

"Argh!" She cried out, her body twisting with her arm. This was not the time to break something. She kicked out blindly, trying to connect with any part of her captor. There was a sickening crunch, and suddenly her elbow was released. Marisa gasped, taking a deep breath as she wriggled her arm as best as she could in her current position. In that split second, however, the first Talosian had advanced again, his hands reaching out to grab her.

"No you don't!" Marisa cried, running the last few steps between them and slamming into the figure with as much force as she could throw. It wasn't much – he was much taller than her, after all – but the element of surprise was enough to make his stumble backwards. She kicked out again, aiming at his knees. Another crunch, and his legs buckled underneath him. She chanced a glanced over her shoulder, her eyes catching sight of Kirk clobber a Talosian over the head with his wrists still bound. The guard slid to the white floor to join his partner. Kirk, without pausing, strode over to where the last Talosian was crawling across the ground towards Marisa, incapable of walking.

"I don't think so," he muttered, knocking him out with a quick blow. An uneasy silence settled over the hallway. The bodies on the floor marred the whiteness around them, like specks of dust on an otherwise clean surface. It made Marisa uneasy.

"Here," Kirk muttered, grabbing her wrists with his own hand, his head craned around as far as he could. "Let me see if I can get this off." It didn't make it easy that they were back to back; Marisa's neck was starting to get stiff from looking over her shoulder, trying to see her wrists to undo the restraint. She could hear Kirk's muffled curses as he tugged at the cuffs, his fingers sliding across her skin.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Marisa steadied her breathing again, letting her pounding blood fade to its normal volume. With a click, the cuffs fell off her wrists, clattering to the floor. Sighing heavily, Marisa immediately pulled her arms in front of her, rubbing the chaffed skin at the base of her hands. It was red and raw, she could see, but it felt so much better already.

"Alright, your turn," she told me, a sliver of a smile gracing her lips as he dutifully spun around, holding her arms out behind him. It was much easier to figure out how to under the cuffs once she could actually see them, and soon Kirk's wrists were free as well.

"Let's go." With those two short words, he was already striding down the hallway.

"Wait!" Marisa called, hurrying after him. His long legs and purposeful gait meant that it took her a few seconds to catch up with him, and when she did he didn't slow. "Wait, Kirk! Where are you going?"

"What do you mean where am I going?" He replied bluntly. "I'm getting off this damn ship."

"But what about the others?" Marisa cried, glancing back over her shoulder. She could still see the Talosians knocked out cold, sprawled across the floor. Somewhere, around the bend, was the silver door that lead to their friends. Kirk was going in the wrong direction.

"We'll get them," he replied. His voice was clipped, and his answers were short. There was no typically long-winded explanation or playful banter. He was wearing that expression again, with his chin out and his eyes hard. Kirk meant business.

"Kirk!" She grabbed his elbow, forcing him to stop in the middle of the hallway. "We can't just leave them there! What if more Talosians come? What if they find the guards knocked out? What if they decided to move everyone to a different cell? What if - "

"Ward." He cut her off mid-tirade. "We'll never be able to get to them if we don't get weapons. They'll be more Talosians, and you're right – the guards won't go unnoticed for long. We need to arm ourselves."

"But what about Sulu? And Spock?" She argued, thinking of them all just sitting in that tiny white room, not knowing what had happened to their crewmates, not knowing what was in store for them. "What about Uhura?"

"We'll get them, Ward!" He was frustrated now. He pulled his elbow from her grip – an easy task for him – and grabbed her by the shoulders. "We need to get guns first, or we'll end up right back in that room with them. And that won't help anyone." His voice was firm. She could feel his fingers pressing into her flesh through the thin fabric of her Starfleet dress, and she was suddenly aware of how close he was standing.

"But the others!" She protested, her brow creasing with worry. She couldn't just leave them there.

"Marisa." His voice was a bit softer now, but she could still hear the undercurrent of authority. She registered, dimly, that he had used her first name. He was staring at her now, his eyes boring into hers. For some strange reason, Marisa didn't look away. His eyes, his too-bright blue eyes, were staring into hers, and Marisa noticed for the first time the gray flecked around the edges.

They were close. Too close. So close that if she lost her footing and fell forward she wouldn't collide with his body at all but fall straight through, into the swirling electric blue in front of her. Somewhere in the back of her brain she realized that she hadn't taken a breath in quite some time, but she couldn't quite seem to get her lungs to work. She was telling them to open, to take in the oxygen swirling around her, but somewhere between the nodes and the synapses and the nerves and the tissues, something got lost in translation.

"Marisa," he said, his voice low and even. "If we want to rescue them , we need to arm ourselves. This is our only chance." She found herself nodding, once again aware of his hands on her shoulders as they squeezed lightly before falling back to his sides.

"You're right," she replied, still a bit dazed. She took a step back, taking a deep breath. _In and out, Ward,_ she told herself. _In and out_. Setting her jaw, Marisa looked back up at Kirk, a determined glint in her eyes. "Let's go get those guns."

_AN: Alright, so it's terribly short, I know, but it's something. I probably should've combined this with the last chapter, but we all know that my muse is a fickle fellow, and I could only get out so much. Hopefully, the next chapter will be a bit longer – and there won't be so long of a wait in between! Also, this chapter is dedicated to __Sakura Mikan91, because her lovely message was the impetus for this chapter. __Big thanks to her and everyone who has kept reading through all this!_


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